


such a tea-se

by orphan_account



Series: —oh wow, he’s cute [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barista Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), but cant until his friends help/forces him to, obviously, puns, this is basically where lance attempts to talk to keith, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-14 09:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15386172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After their not-so-good-and-actually-terrible first meeting, Lance is ready to talk to the barista for himself this time. But every time Lance sees the barista, he can’t help but lose all composure in a snap.Lance’s eyes landed upon the familiar back structure of one specific worker, his shoulders tensing up at the familiar sight. He’s seen Keith’s back too many times, so nobody can say that it’s creepy how Lance could immediately identify Keith by his back. His unusual mullet also made it quite obvious that was Keith, but Lance wasn’t going to say anything at all to catch the barista’s attention.So instead, Lance decided to kill off the small flame of burning encouragement within his brain and swiftly ducked away from the entrance, rushing towards one of the seats in order to blend in with the other customers.Shenanigans ensue.





	1. First Attempts

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah! New addition to the series! And it’s probably cringe! Yeah!
> 
> I really need to fix my self-esteem but moving on, Voltron S7 is a h u g e thing now, obviously. Why wouldn’t it be? 
> 
> Gay Shiro is also a thing, which has me legit crying and thanking the gods. But after sucking up all the information about Shiro and his gay relationship, my heart is conflicted about what to do and what to ship. Shadam/Adashi, is something that my heart is aching and flapping for.
> 
> But thank you for reading about my pan little heart, have fun reading this three-shot!

Okay, Lance is sure he can do this.

 

Despite the numerous times he had avoided the cafe after the last time, Lance was now prepared to walk into that cafe and apologise for his horrible behaviour last week. The whole situation was a mess, and the Cuban was just downright dreadful when trying to organise a mess.

 

Especially one _he_ made himself.

 

But the whole situation was cleared now, since his friend didn’t seem to mind much when Lance returned empty-handed. In all actuality, Lance didn’t really remember what happened after breaking the ‘bad news’ to his friend, since he spent the rest of his time just admiring the barista when he was near.

 

In his time of admiring the barista and his rarity, Lance had found out that the beauty’s name was Keith apparently. And no, not because he was stalking him, obviously. It was because another staff member had called out to Keith.

 

_Come on,_ Lance had more class than that!

 

He believed the staff member was that man with the orange moustache.

 

His name?

 

Lance believed it was Coran... _something_. He couldn’t remember what his friend had said. The guy’s name being too long for Lance’s brain to actually consume as useful information. Though, he seemed like a friendly guy and from what little information Lance knows about this cafe, he shared ownership of this cafe with another lady. He didn’t know her, since Lance only knew Coran through Hunk.

 

But continuing on, he now stood before the cafe’s entrance, building up the courage to walk in. Despite the bravery Lance’s been stacking up for this moment, nervousness seemed to bubble up within his throat and challenge him. Just the thought of Keith made Lance’s walls crumble down to piles of dust.

 

Whether that was a good or bad thing, he didn’t know.

 

One thing he did know was, Lance was utterly crushing for this _cute_ barista who he treated horribly.

 

_Uuuggghhh..._

 

Now Lance just wanted to leave, but he couldn’t! He’s been putting this off for so long, to where Lance would even start exercising in order to— _try to_ —keep Keith out of his mind. Small whispers had invaded Lance’s mind when he returned home from the cafe last week, telling him of how he should try to speak to the barista again. How it could end up well for him if he tried.

 

And yet, they seemed to suddenly fly off with the wind when Lance was actually at the cafe.

 

He took in a deep breath as he awkwardly stood in front of the cafe. No...he was going to do this. He _was_ going to walk in that cafe.

 

_Someday_...

 

...maybe not _today_.

 

...

 

—No!

 

He was going to do it!

 

And before Lance could second-guess himself and his decisions once again, his hand pushed against the smooth glass of the door and he walked in, a small bell above the door greeting him with a soft ‘ting!’. His eyes searched the area almost immediately, looking for any signs of Keith nearby.

 

Lance’s eyes landed upon the familiar back structure of one specific worker, his shoulders tensing up at the familiar sight. He’s seen Keith’s back too many times, so _nobody_ can say that it’s creepy how Lance could immediately identify Keith by his back. His unusual mullet also made it quite obvious that was Keith, but Lance wasn’t going to say anything at all to catch the barista’s attention.

 

So instead, Lance decided to kill off the small flame of burning encouragement within his brain and swiftly ducked away from the entrance, rushing towards one of the seats in order to blend in with the other customers.

 

Lance was at a table in a zap, with no one noticing the man’s fidgety tendencies, which gave him some relief.

 

But now that he was here, he was unsure of what to do. His plan before was basically:

 

Step one, walk up to the counter.

 

Step two, apologise to Keith about last week.

 

Step three, handle whatever fate gives him.

 

Yeah, okay...so he didn’t plan so great but it gave his mind some sort of idea to latch onto. It wasn’t a great one, but Lance could hope.

 

_Right?_

 

Except that Lance had to entirely scrap that idea, since he decided to grab a table out of sheer panic. In actuality, he could still walk up to Keith and try to execute his plan. But it would be weird if Lance was walking to the counter from the customers section of the cafe, instead of the entrance and Lance was not prepared to handle the awkward silence right now.

 

But he’ll surely think of something soon.

 

_Hopefully._

 

* * *

 

Okay, so he hasn’t thought of anything yet.

 

Lance’s been sitting at the same table for an hour, still racking up the courage to try and talk to Keith. No attempts have actually succeeded, obviously.

 

And by ‘attempts’, Lance refers to the times he walked up to the counter with jelly legs and chickened out last second. There was that one try when he actually did ring the bell, only to quickly rush back to his seat when he saw Keith’s shadow walking out from the staff’s kitchen.

 

Yeah, he hasn’t even managed to get a word to Keith in this entire hour of panicking.

 

But that didn’t mean he wasted his time!

 

Lance did occupy that hour on his phone, having ordered a latte with extra frothed milk. But, it laid on the table untouched and was probably cold already.

 

That’s a wasted hour—and a latte.

 

Lance mentally groaned, his arms resting upon the table. The boy shamefully buried his face in his left arm, while his right hand scratched the back of his head. He took another breath in, before snapping his neck up and slamming his hands down on the table. Lance was doing that to bring out his motivation, but it plummeted almost immediately after when the latte on the table trembled on the table.

 

He was quick to stop the latte in its shaking, mentally sighing when the risk had faded away.

 

—Along with his motivation.

 

_Uuuuuggggghhhhh._

 

This would be so much easier if this were just like any other girl.

 

With girls, Lance easily interacted with them by flirting. In all honesty, he didn’t flirt with girls because he was interested into getting into their pants, but because it was just the easiest way for him to communicate. He’s comfortable in the area of flirting, despite it failing many times.

 

But he was used to the failure, but when people did point it out, Lance had to defend his pride in some way. It’s something he’s been doing for a while and he couldn’t just give that all up for this one guy, who he hasn’t even properly greeted.

 

But then that just leads him into _another_ dead end.

 

And Lance verbally groans for the first time.


	2. Getting Assistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance needs help.
> 
>  
> 
> Help isn’t helpful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! I love food!
> 
> That rhymes, kinda anyway. I’m finally freed of homework! I have my own time to play my own games and do my own stuff, and I’m happy about it! ~(- v -~ )
> 
> Freedom is great. And fanfiction are too.
> 
> That didn’t rhyme.

“Seriously, how hard is it to talk to one guy?” Pidge asked, clearly done with all of her friend’s complaints and loud groaning. She sat on her bed, legs crossed with her laptop on her lap and headphones resting around her neck. Her look of annoyance was directed towards Lance, who was spinning himself on her desk chair repeatedly. “Just go up to him and talk!” Pidge’s statement makes the other bang his head on the backrest on the wheelie chair.

 

“It’s not that easy!” Lance snaps back before letting out a very exaggerated sigh. His eyes stared up towards the ceiling, as he thought back to all the times he was about to trip over himself when attempting to speak to Keith. The boy’s gaze slowly travelled down towards his friend, only to be met with the female’s very irritated face. “What’s with that look?”

 

“This is the look of someone who’s _very_ annoyed at their friend, for suddenly coming over to their house and whining about their boy problems.” Putting emphasis on ‘very’ before ‘annoying’ made Lance huff.

 

“It’s not like you’re even doing something important.” Lance mumbles, it being loud enough for the occupant of the room to raise a questioning eyebrow.

 

“Really? Says the person who bursted into my room, and made me lose my chance at a new high score.” Pidge adjusted her glasses as she returned back to her laptop, still angered about the loss of a high score. She then grabbed her headphones and placed them back around her head, blocking out her ears from Lance’s words.

 

“Hey, hey! Are you even going to listen to me?” Lance motioned dramatically, Pidge seeing his actions in the corner of her eye.

 

“Not listening.” Pidge unpaused her gameplay, continuing on as if Lance was simply a figment of her imagination. But the Cuban was not allowing it all to end like this, especially when he desperately needed some assistance in this love-but-not-really-love type of situation.

 

“Come on!” He cried out, still trying to attract Pidge’s eyes to him.

 

“Still not listening.” She responded, fingers pressing down on her keys quite speedily. Lance saw this, knowing that she probably wasn’t even paying any attention to him anymore. He sank back down onto his seat, resting his head on his arm as his other hand stretched out all five fingers.

 

“Just five more minutes?” He begged, Pidge giving her friend a small glance before sighing at his almost pitiful ways. She moved to pull her headphones back down as she said,

 

“Don’t you usually go to Hunk to talk about your failures in romance?” That statement was true. After all, Hunk was a more compassionate and supporting person. He always did try to help Lance in his problems, both romantic or not. Even thought he didn’t really have an actual understanding about romance, he still tried to see if there was anyway he could somehow help Lance whenever. He is a huge, kind teddy bear and everyone knew it.

 

“Hey! They’re not failures!” Lance shouted indignantly, finding offence in the female’s words. “And Hunk’s busy, since he’s over at his mom’s place.” He added, shoulders sagging at the thought of parting with one of his best buddies, even if it was only for a little while.

 

“Then what do you expect me to do?” She asked, finally looking up to meet Lance’s pleading eyes since her game had just ended with a ‘more than average but not good enough for her’ score. Lance tensed up slightly at hearing her blunt question, before muttering a few words that were too quite for Pidge’s ears.

 

“What?” She pulled her headphones down to try and hear them more clearly. Lance inhaled a short breath, before repeating his words with less reluctance than earlier.

 

“...To help me?” His words made the other’s expression twist into a blank look. Her expression looked as if she had more than a thousand things to say to Lance, it at the same time, nothing to say at all. She then shook her head, her hair moving along with her while she pushed her glasses up the slope of her nose. Lance looked at this with much anticipation but she simply declared,

 

“You came to the worse person for help.”

 

Lance stayed silent at her reply, eyes avoiding the gaze of the other because both knew full well that it was true.

 

* * *

 

The stirring of the coffee machine whirled, the cup underneath the mechanic receiving the warm and dark drink. Quickly swiped away, the cup of simple coffee was placed onto a tray along with a slice of a scrumptious pastry, and swiftly served to a customer.

 

The repetitive tapping on the table knocked loudly within the cafe, everyone seemingly ignoring it except for a certain Cuban.

 

“Pidge, can you stop?” Lance hissed, still ‘casually’ sipping his latte that he totally did not order an hour ago. In all honesty, it seemed to become a habit for him to drink his latte too late for anyone’s tastes now. Pidge clenched the phone in her other hand, before allowing the phone’s screen to smack onto the table”s surface as she let out a frustrated growl.

 

“We’ve been here for...two..” _Breath in,_ “..hours...” Pidge stated, exhaling while trying to calm herself.

 

Seconds past.

 

Only for her to immediately jump out of her seat, hands flat upon the table with stone eyes. “Are you sure you haven’t been like...imagining this guy, or _something_ like that?” She questioned, eyes narrowed as she stared down at Lance with a scrutinising glare.

 

But her shoulders immediately dropped when seeing Lance’s strong gaze.

 

“Of course I didn’t imagine him!” Lance snapped back, as the female across from him plopped back onto her seat with crossed arms.

 

“Then, where is he?” Pidge asked, scanning the room top to bottom, looking for any sign of this _cute-boy-with-a-very-weird-mullet-cut-but-it-still-somehow-makes-him-even-cuter._

 

“...I don’t know where he is.” Lance mumbled reluctantly, finishing his latte up in one more sip before placing it down with a deep sigh. Pidge continued to question Lance about this mullet guy, the two digging themselves so deep into the conversation (that is actually more like an interrogation) to the point where they both didn’t see the shadow that was slowly crawling up onto their figures.

 

“Uh, excuse me?”

 

A smooth and sultry voice interrupted the two, both Lance and Pidge immediately freezing in their place when hearing this voice.

 

_Who was this person interrupting them?_

 

This question registered in both of their minds as they slowly returned back to the situation before them.

 

Both slowly turned around towards the voice’s owner, only to see the barista that they were sure was just standing over at that counter a few seconds ago. Despite working at a quiet place like this, the barista looked like he’d been through a lot, the scar across his nose and his white hair saying a lot.

 

“Y-yes?” Pidge prompted, seemingly lost at why the barista was currently standing before them.

 

“If I could ask, are you two waiting for someone specific?” The barista questioned, while the two friends simply shared a look before returning their eyes back to the worker.

 

“Uhh, yes....?” Pidge drew out the ‘s’, quite confused as to why the barista was talking to them. Lance shot a glare at his friend, for her words obviously didn’t help this very unusual situation. “How did you know..?” Pidge countered back with her own question, wanting to get an answer out of the very tall but friendly looking barista.

 

“Well, the both of you continue to look around the cafe, and its sort of hard to miss after about two hours of it.” The worker said, putting his words down lightly.

 

“Oh, sorry about that....um..” Lance searched through his brain to remember whether or not the man before him gave his name to them earlier. The other simply laughed, holding an empty tray between his prosthetic arm and side.

 

“Shiro.” He stated for Lance, simply giving a small smile at the fumbling Cuban.

 

“—Shiro, yeah.” Lance added quickly, “Sorry about disturbing you and all.” He restated, but Shiro responded with the sake of the head.

 

“Hey, no need to apologise.” He was quick to reassure the two, his words not helping them relax in the smallest bit so he continued on. “All I wanted to know is if the two of you would like help with finding this person. If they were a worker here, that is.” Shiro smiled bashfully, letting out a small laugh in order to cover up the awkward pause that came between the three.

 

Shiro believed he was the reason for the awkward pause, but that wasn’t the case at all. The awkward silence was actually used for a stare down between the two friends, who currently sat at the same table. Speaking through their eyes, Pidge gave Lance a knowing look while the latter slowly narrowed his eyes at the female, almost warning her to not do anything.

 

But his eyes simply widened as Pidge opened her mouth with a quite smug expression.

 

“Actually, yes. They _are_ a worker here.”

 

Lance mentally screeched.


	3. Phone Contacts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A more helpful friend comes along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m in bed, slowly dying with a sore throat. I wanna eat some chips, but I already know it won’t help with me being sick. I can barely even speak. T^T
> 
> But of course, the best thing to do when you’re sick, is t post the next chapter of your fanfic. Anyways, enjoy the last chapter of such a tea-se!

The entire mood seemed to change when Pidge and Lance returned back to Pidge’s home.

 

Everyone in the household could tell, because the noises from Pidge’s room said it all. Loud thumping could be heard on the second floor, but it didn’t seem to surprise anyone. The two did have a complicated relationship at times, but Colleen knew that the two care about each other deeply.

 

But she still couldn’t help giving a worried glance over to the stairs that led to the second floor.

 

* * *

 

“Give me the phone—”

 

“—No way!”

 

“If you won’t do it, I will!” Pidge quickly pushed her feet off the ground, flying towards Lance who had scrambled towards the bed with his phone in hand.

 

“Get away, you little gremlin!” Lance screeched, rushing off the bed and tripping over the blankets in the process. “Gah!” Obviously not wanting to kiss the floor with a loud smack, Lance dropped his phone on the bed as he flailed his arms unhelpfully.

 

But before he knocked himself out on the floor, Lance’s hands slapped the floor and kept his own weight on bay.

 

“Aha!” Pidge’s enthusiastic yell had prompted Lance’s groan of absolute pain. The Cuban quickly got back on his feet, as Pidge stared at Lance’s lock screen blankly, her excitement having washed off the moment she saw the screen. “Passcode?” She asked.

 

“Don’t you know it?” Lance answered back, but the other grumbled at his response.

 

“You changed it, again.” Pidge stated as though it were the obvious, but it simply made one of his eyebrows rise slowly.

 

“And why do you think I do that?” Lance crossed his arms, staring down at his friend with a very questioning stare but Pidge simply gave him a quick shrug.

 

“I don’t know, maybe because you just can’t accept the fact that I’ll be able to figure out your passcode sooner or later.” She said confidently, because everyone already knew that Pidge was a huge smart tech that would find anything anywhere, as long as she had her trusty laptop. “But more sooner than later.” She added. Hunk had already long given up on changing his passcode every four times a week, but Lance hadn’t.

 

_Yet_ , that is.

 

“Why are you so into this now?” Lance asked, casually snatching the phone out of Pidge’s grasp, pulling out an aggravated ‘hey’ from her at the same time. “You didn’t even seem to care before.” Lance mumbled defensively, putting in his passcode and looking over his contacts.

 

Or more specifically, Keith’s newly made one.

 

Yup, when Pidge had decided to get Shiro’s help with finding Keith, the barista had stated that Keith wasn’t working that day due to some business he had to do. Pidge’s expression showed all sorts of emotions when he told them, more specifically irritation when hearing that she spent two hours waiting for someone who wasn’t even going to come.

 

But Shiro had given Keith’s phone number to Lance, without them having to actually say more.

 

In all honesty, he looked more happy than questionable when seeing that some people had mentioned Keith, but Lance didn’t point it out for politeness’ sake.

 

But that brings Lance back to his current situation, with a new phone number in his contacts and the pressuring of his friend who wasn’t really helping him.

 

“Well, I’m invested in this now because I know—we both do—” Lance already knows that he couldn’t not agree to her words. “—that if I stop helping you now, you’ll just chicken out and continue to bother me about this guy who you ‘just can’t forget’.” Pidge rolls her eyes, while Lance attempts to conjure up some sort of comeback but his mind is left blank.

 

The silence is drawn out as Lance stays silent, clutching his phone while Pidge stares up at him almost expectantly. This continues on until a small song cracks through the silence with his savvy tune, both caught off-guard at the interruption.

 

“What is that?” Lance questions, eyes widen a bit too dramatically.

 

“My phone, you idiot.” Pidge answers back, the pregnant silence from before long forgotten between the two. The female pulls her bedside drawer and grabs her phone, answering the call without a second thought. “Pidge here.” She starts, the caller keeping her attention on the phone as Lance plops down onto her desk chair.

 

She lets it a small hum before saying, “Yeah, we’re both here.” A short silence follows after but Pidge soon ends the call, a very relieved smile stretching upon her face. This sprinkles a bit of suspicion on Lance’s thoughts when seeing this. “Okay, see ya.” Ending the call, Pidge leaves her phone on the bedside table with a very joyful look.

 

It was _too_ happy for Lance’s tastes.

 

“Okay, who called and what’d they say?” Lance questions, already knowing that Pidge had gotten something good. She fixes her glasses as the smug grin on her lips never left her face.

 

“Well, it looks like I’m finally free of all your babbling.” She states joyfully, hopping off her bed and over to her desk. Lance’s eyes follow her movements suspiciously, spinning the wheelie chair he was sitting on in order to keep his gaze on her at all times.

 

Pidge grabs her laptop from the top of her desk and returns back to her bed, with a gleeful jump in her steps.

 

Lance wasn’t sure of what— _or who_ to expect.

 

* * *

 

“Noooooooo—!” Lance cried out, his screams dying down in the public’s mumbling as the Cuban acted like a frightened cat to water. But even if he wanted to, Lance knew he wouldn’t be able to run away now, especially since another had joined the mess Lance had made.

 

“Hey, we’ve been talking about this since yesterday, and all of last night too! You can do this!” Hunk encouraged behind him, pushing Lance’s slim boy towards the entrance of a certain cafe. He couldn’t even say anything mean to his friend, because all Hunk was trying to do was actually help him out of the kindness of his beautiful, sweet heart.

 

Unlike Pidge, who was less than enthusiastic to help.

 

Lance is still salty about her attitude.

 

But returning to the topic of his greatest friend, Lance wishes that he weren’t here but at the same time, not. It was obvious that the person who called Pidge was Hunk, and the reason why Pidge seemed to be on a high and happy rainbow right now.

 

The culinary chef had called Pidge since he’d return from his mother’s place, and was planning to meet up with them. His original plan was to head over to a good burger place, only for Pidge to immediately spill about Lance’s current predicament to Hunk as they were walking down the sidewalks.

 

And once Hunk had gotten all the details out of Pidge, he was excited to help his buddy out.

 

—With _no_ sign of hesitation anywhere.

 

And these are the times when Lance just couldn’t say no, even when he desperately wanted to.

 

But once Lance was actually put into the situation, he was quick to jump off the ship.

 

“I’ll go tomorrow!” Lance states hastily, his feet scratching upon the concrete of the pavement but was caught off-guard when Hunk stopped pushing against his back for only a small second. Lance slowly turned his head to look up past his shoulder, only to be given a very disappointed look from his friend.

 

“We both already know that excuse is overused.” Hunk stared blankly while Lance simply smiled nervously, his expression silently pleading his friend to stop.

 

—Only for Hunk to utterly betray him and continue pushing his back against his will.

 

“ _—No_!”

 

This conflict continued on between the two, and as much as Lance hated to say no to Hunk, there was no way he was doing this! Not here, not now!

 

And as they continued on with the pushing forward from Hunk and pushing back from Lance, the small ringing of the bell echoed lightly in the background, ignored by both guys who were still to focused on fighting against each other. They continued this, until a very familiar and distinguishable voice spoke up from nearby.

 

“ _—What_ are you two doing?”

 

Lance froze immediately while Hunk lit up, both immediately stopping in their pushing as the latter was quick to let go of Lance and greet the newcomer who just entered the conversation.

 

“Good to see you again, Keith! How was—” Words began to cut off from Lance’s mind as his body froze, tensing up when his brain had registered exactly who came between this whole situation.

 

“Where have you been? It was—” Lance gulped down, attempting to calm himself and keep his composure only for it to break down immediately after every time he heard his voice come in.

 

The words that came along with his voice didn’t really come through to his brain, but Lance wasn’t really focused on the spoken language right now.

 

“So, meet my buddy, Lance!” Hunk’s voice immediately shot through Lance’s thoughts, and the Cuban suddenly returned back to reality with a lost mind.

 

“ _W-what...?_ ” Lance mumbled incoherently, his eyes looking all over the place only to see the very source of all his problems right in front of him.

 

“Oh, I remember you.” The voice said, as Lance adjusted to seeing the very guy before him. It would go fine, all Lance needs to do is get him like a normal person in a normal place with a perfectly normal reason.

 

“Um—uh, I...hi?” Lance’s hand touched the back of his head awkwardly, as his hand messed up his hair with a few nervous scratches.

 

This was already _not_ going fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Lance pins and panics at the same time! That’s a great plot idea, isn’t it? ತಎತ


End file.
